------ Date ----
“I never saw you paint your nails,” said Kotono, before taking a sip through the straw of her iced tea.
Daryl blinked a moment, before holding her hand in front of her. She clenched her hand into a fist, before stretching her fingers, her gaze focusing more on fresh, tanned skin rather than the pale pink varnish on her nails.
It still had that vague, ‘uncanny valley’ feel to it - the sort of artificiality normally expected from the skin on a freshly awakened cyberdroid which hadn’t formed the usual human wrinkles and folds.
Doctor Bashir had assured her the sensation would pass.
Kotono, still waited for an answer
“It’s been weeks since I could have a shower,” said Daryl, wearing a soft smile. The skin had taken time to bond.“And it’s been a while since I had nails to paint.”
“You should do it more often,” said Kotono, with what seemed to Daryl like a genuine tone of encouragement.
Daryl expected at least some form of friendly barb, something sharp and painful - but not wounding. It set her back just a moment, drawing attention to the makeup she tried to apply to her face and the feel of it on her skin
“Hmmmm,” she said. “It all feels strange,”
Not wrong, just different - like she’d forgotten what normality was for a bit, and had to relearn it. She couldn’t really remember if her underwear had been this annoying, and she’d just gotten used to it, or that her bodyshape had subtly changed. The underwire in her underwear especially seemed to dig that bit more than she’d expected
She bit her lip and decided not to say more.
“Soon you’ll be dressing with the best of us,” Kotono assured, swirling her glass slightly in her hand.
“Don’t count on it,” answered Daryl, forgetting her discomfort.
It took a lot of effort, to look like you didn’t put any effort into deciding what you wore. The right jeans with the tear in right place, the right leather jacket with artificial patina that spoke to an age it didn’t have, and a freshly printed t-shirt, machine-bleached to look like she might really have bought it at the band’s last concert before the lead singer ate a shotgun slug.
She felt a smirk cross her lips. “At least I don’t shop for clothes at Gateway 2000.”
Feigning injury, Kotono placed a hand on a fresian-patterned jumper at least two sizes too large for her, before rewarding with a smile. A few gentle barbs helped hide the real things that bothered, like a sort of acupuncture.
“There’s one thing I don’t understand.”
“What?”
“Up until five weeks ago, you were adamant you’d finish the racing season first.”
A way of leaving the gate open, but with the option of not going through and saving face, but with the offer of support still there if needed. Why did you change your mind, when you’d been so dead set? When you’d been OK with it? Did something happen? Did someone do something?
Daryl seemed to curl up just a little, crossing her arms in front of her chest.
“I started getting some really creepy shit from cyber-fen,” Daryl said. “Like, really, creepy steel-body sausage-in-vice fetish shit and I wanted to make sure they never had any reason to talk about me, ever again.”
Not to mention, the google adwords that’d picked up on their suggestions, and quietly began to urge her in that direction.
Kotono place her hand on the table in front of them both - there for Daryl to take if she felt she needed, but not in an obvious way.
“But I’m glad I finally did it.” Daryl smiled. “I feel better than I have in a long time. More like myself. More like a person I chose to be,”
Tanned skin, red eyes and white hair and all.
“You really look happy,” said Kotono, after a moment. She took a bite from a cream scone.
Daryl sat. for a moment, feeling a hot little spark inside her soul - that little moment of true happiness that made everything to that point seem worth it. She took a moment to take a drink of coffee, letting its warmth settle deep in her belly.
“There’s still next year’s racing aswell,” Daryl said. She looked forward to that. Being back with energy, drive and without the army of creeps. And having a year of development work would be a hell of a head-start.
Around them, the Midoriyah bustled with customers, filling the air with the metallic ring of cutlery and the humm of conversation. The scent of fresh coffee and warm pastries filled the air.
Even Frigga itself seemed that little bit happier. The lights shone brighter. The walls seemed cleaner. Cyberpunk Neon and industrial steel had flavoured the traditional Ohtori-esque architecture of the Crystal Millenium into something new and unique.
“Anyway…” Kotono continued, pulling her phone from her handbag. “I’ve got a date in Kandor on Saturday, and he has a brother who works for the KCPD,” she set about flicking though images in some app. “I think you two should meet,”
Daryl’s lips pursed into a pout. “There’s always an angle,”
“Well there’s that, and I really don’t want to go to Kandor City by myself - I need backup.”
Kotono smiled at her. And, of course, friends wouldn’t let friends walk around a strange and distant city all by themselves. You’d feel responsible if anything happened - if they guy was a creep, a threat or just an asshole - someone had to be there.
She stiffened her lip “Alright….”
Her face bagan to warm, a little hamster of panic making itself known in the pit of her stomach. Kotono read the expression on her face in a heartbeat
“What?”
She leant in, lowering her voice to the absolute minimum needed. Nobody needed to know this particular secret. “You know it’s over five years since I went on a date with anyone.”
Her voice sounded like it’d lost ten years.
“Anyway…” Kotono said again, without an ounce of sympathy, sliding the phone “Here’s his photo. He’s a blood-type B and a Pisces if either of those matter to you. But really, just watch this video of him lifting weights.”
Daryl felt her eyes widen.
Wow.
A small fragment of her mind recalled being thirteen, give or take a year, watching one particular scene in Top Gun where she’d found the working’s of men’s muscles absolutely fascinating in a way they hadn’t ever been before.
It was nice to feel that way again - kind of like feeling okay.
Hey, I’m okay
“That changes things,” she said, a soft giggle rising up her throat. “Oh wow.”
A quick, one-night thing in a hotel room? Maybe a little more? Depending on how things went
-----
“I never saw you paint your nails,” said Kotono, before taking a sip through the straw of her iced tea.
Daryl blinked a moment, before holding her hand in front of her. She clenched her hand into a fist, before stretching her fingers, her gaze focusing more on fresh, tanned skin rather than the pale pink varnish on her nails.
It still had that vague, ‘uncanny valley’ feel to it - the sort of artificiality normally expected from the skin on a freshly awakened cyberdroid which hadn’t formed the usual human wrinkles and folds.
Doctor Bashir had assured her the sensation would pass.
Kotono, still waited for an answer
“It’s been weeks since I could have a shower,” said Daryl, wearing a soft smile. The skin had taken time to bond.“And it’s been a while since I had nails to paint.”
“You should do it more often,” said Kotono, with what seemed to Daryl like a genuine tone of encouragement.
Daryl expected at least some form of friendly barb, something sharp and painful - but not wounding. It set her back just a moment, drawing attention to the makeup she tried to apply to her face and the feel of it on her skin
“Hmmmm,” she said. “It all feels strange,”
Not wrong, just different - like she’d forgotten what normality was for a bit, and had to relearn it. She couldn’t really remember if her underwear had been this annoying, and she’d just gotten used to it, or that her bodyshape had subtly changed. The underwire in her underwear especially seemed to dig that bit more than she’d expected
She bit her lip and decided not to say more.
“Soon you’ll be dressing with the best of us,” Kotono assured, swirling her glass slightly in her hand.
“Don’t count on it,” answered Daryl, forgetting her discomfort.
It took a lot of effort, to look like you didn’t put any effort into deciding what you wore. The right jeans with the tear in right place, the right leather jacket with artificial patina that spoke to an age it didn’t have, and a freshly printed t-shirt, machine-bleached to look like she might really have bought it at the band’s last concert before the lead singer ate a shotgun slug.
She felt a smirk cross her lips. “At least I don’t shop for clothes at Gateway 2000.”
Feigning injury, Kotono placed a hand on a fresian-patterned jumper at least two sizes too large for her, before rewarding with a smile. A few gentle barbs helped hide the real things that bothered, like a sort of acupuncture.
“There’s one thing I don’t understand.”
“What?”
“Up until five weeks ago, you were adamant you’d finish the racing season first.”
A way of leaving the gate open, but with the option of not going through and saving face, but with the offer of support still there if needed. Why did you change your mind, when you’d been so dead set? When you’d been OK with it? Did something happen? Did someone do something?
Daryl seemed to curl up just a little, crossing her arms in front of her chest.
“I started getting some really creepy shit from cyber-fen,” Daryl said. “Like, really, creepy steel-body sausage-in-vice fetish shit and I wanted to make sure they never had any reason to talk about me, ever again.”
Not to mention, the google adwords that’d picked up on their suggestions, and quietly began to urge her in that direction.
Kotono place her hand on the table in front of them both - there for Daryl to take if she felt she needed, but not in an obvious way.
“But I’m glad I finally did it.” Daryl smiled. “I feel better than I have in a long time. More like myself. More like a person I chose to be,”
Tanned skin, red eyes and white hair and all.
“You really look happy,” said Kotono, after a moment. She took a bite from a cream scone.
Daryl sat. for a moment, feeling a hot little spark inside her soul - that little moment of true happiness that made everything to that point seem worth it. She took a moment to take a drink of coffee, letting its warmth settle deep in her belly.
“There’s still next year’s racing aswell,” Daryl said. She looked forward to that. Being back with energy, drive and without the army of creeps. And having a year of development work would be a hell of a head-start.
Around them, the Midoriyah bustled with customers, filling the air with the metallic ring of cutlery and the humm of conversation. The scent of fresh coffee and warm pastries filled the air.
Even Frigga itself seemed that little bit happier. The lights shone brighter. The walls seemed cleaner. Cyberpunk Neon and industrial steel had flavoured the traditional Ohtori-esque architecture of the Crystal Millenium into something new and unique.
“Anyway…” Kotono continued, pulling her phone from her handbag. “I’ve got a date in Kandor on Saturday, and he has a brother who works for the KCPD,” she set about flicking though images in some app. “I think you two should meet,”
Daryl’s lips pursed into a pout. “There’s always an angle,”
“Well there’s that, and I really don’t want to go to Kandor City by myself - I need backup.”
Kotono smiled at her. And, of course, friends wouldn’t let friends walk around a strange and distant city all by themselves. You’d feel responsible if anything happened - if they guy was a creep, a threat or just an asshole - someone had to be there.
She stiffened her lip “Alright….”
Her face bagan to warm, a little hamster of panic making itself known in the pit of her stomach. Kotono read the expression on her face in a heartbeat
“What?”
She leant in, lowering her voice to the absolute minimum needed. Nobody needed to know this particular secret. “You know it’s over five years since I went on a date with anyone.”
Her voice sounded like it’d lost ten years.
“Anyway…” Kotono said again, without an ounce of sympathy, sliding the phone “Here’s his photo. He’s a blood-type B and a Pisces if either of those matter to you. But really, just watch this video of him lifting weights.”
Daryl felt her eyes widen.
Wow.
A small fragment of her mind recalled being thirteen, give or take a year, watching one particular scene in Top Gun where she’d found the working’s of men’s muscles absolutely fascinating in a way they hadn’t ever been before.
It was nice to feel that way again - kind of like feeling okay.
Hey, I’m okay
“That changes things,” she said, a soft giggle rising up her throat. “Oh wow.”
A quick, one-night thing in a hotel room? Maybe a little more? Depending on how things went
-----
I love the smell of rotaries in the morning. You know one time, I got to work early, before the rush hour. I walked through the empty carpark, I didn't see one bloody Prius or Golf. And that smell, you know that gasoline smell, the whole carpark, smelled like.... ....speed.
One day they're going to ban them.